


Because He Loves Me

by AAArlert



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x11 spoilers, Bipolar Disorder, Fluff and Angst, Ian actually uses his phone AU, Ian and Mickey actually talk AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAArlert/pseuds/AAArlert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is having some regrets about leaving with Monica, so he listens to his voicemails for some comfort and assurance that he made the right decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because He Loves Me

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a bad feeling about the finale, but for now I'm going to pretend that everything is going to end happily. I hope you guys like it and good luck surviving 5x12 in a few days...

     The sinking feeling in Ian’s stomach wasn’t going away. He had started feeling it when Mickey called him the first time. It stuck with him when he got on the truck with Monica. He had thought it would go away, but after three days it was still there. He turned off his phone on the second day, when the vibrating of his phone that kept drawing his thoughts back to Mickey became too painful. Mickey. Leaving with Monica had seemed like the right thing to. She was right after all, he was hurting his family, and he was hurting Mickey most of all. It killed him how they looked at him, like he was fragile, like one wrong word would break him.

  
     “ _Like it breaks their heart just to look at you”_

     Ian pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the blank screen. Leaving had seemed like the best choice. Maybe he was stuck with this disease, but that didn’t mean he had to force it into the lives of the people he loved. Ian looked over his shoulder at the trailer where he had been staying with Monica and her boyfriend.

      _“I love you.”_

  
     Ian could probably count on one hand the number of times someone had said that to him in the past year. His siblings told him, but it wasn’t like it was before. They said it with pity in their eyes, like they were at his bedside in a hospital. Mickey never said it. He wasn’t really one to blurt out his feelings like that. There was a time when Ian was sure Mickey loved him. He came out for him, and he stayed with him when Ian wouldn’t get out of bed for weeks, but things were different now. Mickey knew now. He knew Ian cheated on him, he knew Ian was crazy, and he knew Ian would never be the same. This stupid fucking disease, ruined everything. The moment Mickey realized Ian was sick was the moment he lost him, because how could he expect Mickey to love someone this fucked up.

  
     “Ian, sweetheart,” Monica’s voice pulled Ian from his thoughts, “Come inside. It’s cold out here and we’re about to eat dinner.”

  
     “I’ll be there in a minute,” he replied, glancing up at her. It felt weird seeing her every day. He wondered how long it would last. Ian looked down again at the phone in his hand, hesitating for a moment before turning it on. His heart pounded as he opened his contacts, scrolling down to Mickey’s name. He knew he shouldn’t call him, it would only make things worse, but Ian needed to hear his voice. He went into his voicemail instead, where he had hundreds of unheard messages, most of which were from Mickey. The earliest ones were from when he left with Yevgeny. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to them before, but now he figured they’d probably be less painful than the more recent ones. He opened the first one.

  
     “What the fuck Ian,” Ian closed his eyes and let the familiar sound of Mickey’s voice wash over him. “Come the fuck home. I get it, we don’t have to go to the hospital, just come home.” Instead of making Ian feel better though, Mickey’s words were just making the sinking feeling in his stomach even worse.

  
     “Are you serious Ian, you’re gonna be like this?”

  
     “Just bring the kid home. We can talk when you get back.”

  
     “Just answer my goddamn calls you fucking asshole.”

  
     “Look, I’m sorry. Just come home.”

  
     Mickey’s calls ranged from threats to apologies, each voicemail becoming more and more desperate. Ian didn’t know when the tears started falling; he just knew they wouldn’t stop. He finally got to the last one from that day, promising himself that after this one he would stop. Nothing was going to make this easier.

  
     “Alright shithead this is like the 200th time I’m calling you, and you not picking up. I’m starting to get fucking homicidal,” Ian couldn’t help but smile; he was a little relieved for this last voicemail to be Mickey being pissed at him. It was better than him being sad at least. However Ian’s smile fell away when he heard the change in Mickey’s tone, “I’m worried about you. I love you.”

  
     Fuck.

  
     Without even thinking, Ian opened up his contacts. He thought for a moment about calling Mickey, but clicked on Lip’s name instead. The phone had barely even rung before, “Fuck! Ian, is that you?”

  
     “Yeah,” he replied, his voice barely over a whisper.

  
     “Jesus Christ,” Lip breathed, and the relief in his voice was almost tangible. The sinking feeling was still getting worse. “Where are you?” Ian gave Lip directions to where the van was parked. “Okay, let me just call Fiona and-“

  
     “Please don’t call her,” Ian blurted out, “just pick me up.”

  
     Lip was only silent for a moment before he said, “Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  
     Ian hung up and paced for a minute, before eventually decided to go inside. Monica and Walter were sitting at a makeshift table together, eating something that didn’t look at all edible. “Hey honey,” Monica sang, standing up, “What took you so long?”

  
     “I’m going home,” Ian said simply, avoiding looking his mother in the eyes.

  
     “Why,” she whispered, and even without looking at her, Ian could hear the heartbreak. A small part of him wanted to laugh at the irony of it.

  
     “I can’t do this,” Ian said, finally meeting his mother’s gaze, “I’m not you mom. I know we have the same disease and everything, but I need them. My family. Mickey. I can’t leave them.”

  
     “But you won’t be happy with them,” Monica pleaded, “They don’t understand you the way I do.”

  
     “But they try,” Ian said, and suddenly he wondered why he didn’t realize it before, “They try, because they love me, and that's why I can't leave them.”

  
     “I love you, Ian,” tears were falling down her face now, and Ian couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him.

  
     “I know you do mom,” he said, pulling his mother into his arms, “And I will always love you too.”

  
     Ian just stood there for a minute, holding his mom, before he said, “I think I’m just gonna go outside and wait for Lip.”

  
     “I’ll wait with you,” Monica said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

  
     Ian gave her a small smile, “Thank you.”

  
     They sat by the road, Monica with her head on Ian’s shoulder, neither of them saying anything. It was cold, but Ian didn’t really want to be inside with Walter. He hated the way he looked at Monica. It wasn’t the way Mickey looked at him.

  
     When Lip finally arrived, Ian barely had time to stand up before Lip launched himself out of the car and pulled Ian into a hug. “Jesus Christ Ian,” Lip gave a nervous laugh, “Don’t do that again.”

  
     “I’m sorry,” Ian said hoarsely when he pulled himself away from Lip.

  
     “Hey, no it’s okay,” Lip reassured him, “I’m just glad you’re safe.” He finally noticed Monica standing a few feet behind Ian and he immediately stiffened. “She can’t come with us, Ian,” he said, his eyes never leaving his mother.

  
     “She’s staying with her boyfriend,” Ian said wearily, trying to ignore his irritation, because even though he didn't feel the same way about Monica as his family did, he knew Lip was right.  Monica didn't belong with them.

  
     Lip nodded, “You ready to go then?”

  
     “Yeah.” Ian gave his mother one last hug before getting in the passenger seat beside his brother.

  
     The drove in silence for some time before Ian finally spoke, “I don’t want to be Monica.”

  
     “We know”

  
     “Then you guys should stop telling me that I’m her now, just because of the bipolar stuff,” Ian said, not raising his voice. He wasn’t angry anymore, just tired.

  
     “Ian,” Lip sighed, “You know we don’t mean it like that it’s just-“

  
     “Then don’t fucking say it,” Ian cut him off.

  
     Lip glanced over at his brother, trying to read his emotions.  He used to be good at that.  “Okay,” he agreed. The were quiet for a few minutes before Lip spoke again, “Is that why you left?”

  
     “No.  I mean, yeah, that was a part of it, but not really,” Ian replied. “I’m scared,” he admitted. Lip watched Ian for a moment, and for the first time he really saw how much Ian had changed in the past year. He looked tired. He was barely recognizable as the fifteen-year-old kid dreaming about the army. There was none of that old light in his eyes, and it wasn’t just the medication. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing Lip,” Ian continued, “I’ve always known what I’m doing, you know. I mean I’m not like you. It’s not like I had an amazing future ahead of me with college and fancy dinner parties, but I was going to do things. And now, because of this one stupid thing that I can’t control, I’ve got fuck all to show for it.”

  
     Lip hadn’t heard Ian talk honestly for this long since he came back from the army, but now that Ian had started it was like everything he had bottled up for the past year was spilling out whether he wanted it to or not. “I was okay with that at first,” Ian went on, “Because I had Mickey, and I know that maybe you don’t get that, but he is enough for me.” Lip nodded; he might not understand why Ian fell for Mickey in the first place, but he definitely knew that it was probably the best thing that had ever happened for his brother. “But I don’t want to do this to him Lip,” Ian said softly, “I know I’m fucked up, and do things that I can’t control sometimes, but I thought that this was something I could do for him. I could let him go. He can have a good life. I figured it wasn’t to late for him to find a guy who can love him right, who he doesn’t have to take care of, who he can be happy with. I thought he would be happy without me.”

  
     When Ian didn’t continue, Lip asked, “So why did you come back?”

  
     “Because he loves me,” Ian said simply.

  
     “Yeah no fucking shit,” Lip said incredulously.

  
     Ian couldn’t help but laugh at this before his face grew serious again. “I honestly don't know if I’m doing the right thing here Lip,” Ian admitted, “But I need him, and if there’s a possibility that he can love me even with this disease, then I guess I feel like there might be hope.”

  
     “Mickey needs you just as much as you need him,” Lip assured him, “ You guys got into this mess together the first time you fucked. Mickey’s a tough guy and he can make his own choices. He chose you, Ian.”

  
     Ian smiled, glancing over at his brother, “I miss you. I know you have school and stuff, and I don’t want to sound needy. I just feel like we used to know everything about each other, and now...”

  
     “I’m gonna try to be around more,” Lip said quietly.

  
     They sat in comfortable silence for most of the ride until they finally got to Chicago. “So where exactly am I taking you?” Lip asked.

  
     “Home,” Ian answered, “Not the house, but-"

  
     “I get it.”

  
     It felt like forever before they finally reached the Milkovich house. When Lip parked the car, Ian just sat still for a moment, allowing the memories of that house to wash over him. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was still there.

  
     “Do you want me to wait out here for you?” Lip asked as Ian got out of the car.

  
     “No you can go,” Ian said, trying his best to sound confident, “But can you tell Fiona where I am, and that I’ll call her in a bit.”

  
     “Yeah,” Lip nodded, “Good luck in there man. Call me if you need anything.”

  
     Ian waved goodbye to Lip, before turning around and walking up to the front door. He took a deep breath. Ian didn’t think he’d ever been this scared to talk to Mickey Milkovich, even when Mickey was trying to kill him because he though Ian had attacked Mandy. He knocked on the door. For a moment he wondered if Mickey was even home, but then the door was yanked open and there he was. Mickey looked tired, like he hadn’t slept for days. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was paler than usual. His shirt was dirty and wrinkled and his hair was a mess. It made Ian’s heart ache to see him like this, and it was his own fault. Still, he couldn’t help but stare at Mickey for a moment, because with everything Ian had put him through, he was still beautiful.

  
     “Ian,” Mickey breathed, standing frozen in the doorway. He stared at Ian like he was afraid he would disappear if he looked away. Neither boy moved.

  
     “I love you too, Mick,” Ian’s voice shook. Mickey remained silent, his eyes never leaving Ian’s. Ian didn’t know what he expected Mickey to do, if he would punch him, yell at him, slam the door in his face, but Mickey just stared at him, his face unreadable. Mickey slowly lifted his hand, hesitating for a moment, before cupping Ian’s cheek. Ian immediately felt the tears he had been holding back spilling out, “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. Suddenly Mickey was everywhere. He was kissing Ian, his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, anywhere he could reach, and Ian was reciprocating. Ian’s hands were immediately at Mickey’s waist, holding him as close as possible. Mickey’s hands clutched desperately at Ian’s shirt, before moving to run through his hair. He was whispering Ian’s name with every breath. Every touch was slowly pulling the painful feeling out of Ian’s stomach and replacing it with the feeling of Mickey.

  
     Once Mickey was in Ian’s arms, he never wanted to let go again, but Mickey eventually pulled away. Both quiet for a moment, flushed and breathless, still taking each other in. Mickey finally spoke, “We need to talk Ian,” he said seriously, “Like actually talk this time.” Ian nodded and followed the shorter boy inside.

  
     Ian sat on the couch and Mickey sat on the coffee table across for him. Mickey seemed to be thinking about what to say, absentmindedly reaching for Ian’s hands and lacing their fingers together. “I’m glad you’re back” Mickey started, “But you have to stop doing this shit. You can’t keep running away from this. You can’t just leave me here wondering if you’re ever gonna come back or if you’re lying in some ditch somewhere. And it’s not just that, you can’t fucking hit me. I know you were frustrated, but you need to talk to me Ian, because that’s how we end up here, with me wondering if this is the time you don’t come back,” Mickey’s voice shook and paused for a moment to compose himself, “I can’t do that Ian. You can’t expect me to do that.”

  
     “I know,” Ian nodded, and he did know, “I won’t do any of that shit again. I’m going to take my meds and I’m gonna do my best to get better.” Ian hesitate for a moment, because he was getting to the part he was dreading the most, “I need you to understand something though. This thing fucked me up and I know it fucked us up. I’m not the person I was when we first got together, when I fell in love with you, hell I’m not even the person I was when we became a couple. I’m not what you wanted Mick. Even when they get the meds right, I’m not going to be that person anymore. If I could change back I would, but it’s like that part of my life is gone now.” Mickey was staring at their hands now, and Ian could tell he was trying not to cry. “I’m gonna do my best, but you can do a lot better Mickey. You deserve someone who is healthy and whole, and I hate to think that I’m keeping you from that.”

  
     “Jesus Christ just fucking say it,” Mickey spat, pulling his hands away from Ian’s. He refused to look at Ian, staring angrily at a spot on the wall instead, his tears falling freely now. “If you’re gonna break up with me, just fucking do it. You don’t have to be nice about it. I’m not a fucking idiot Ian.”

  
     “What?” Ian was startled.

  
     “I fucking get it alright,” Mickey said, using the palm of his hands to rub away the tears sliding down his cheeks. “I wasn’t enough. I did my best to be what you wanted and I still wasn’t enough. I mean I always knew I wasn’t good enough, but I fucking tried okay, and for a fucking second I thought that maybe I could do it.”

  
     “Mickey what the fuck are you talking about,” Ian was thoroughly confused at this point, “I would never break up with you. I’m giving you an out. You didn’t sign up for this shit, and I totally understand if it’s too much for y-"

  
     “Don’t be an idiot,” Mickey cut him off, his face softening as he finally looked Ian in the eyes again, “Don't act like that's an option for me anymore.  Like you could disappear from my life that easily.  That stopped being an option the day I kissed you in that shitty van.  You're it for me Ian.  Besides, I would have left your dumb ass a long time ago if I could.”

  
     Ian couldn’t help but smile at this, and Mickey smiled too, “With your stupid fucking puns and your tiny ass bed that you hog while I’m pressed up against the fucking wall. The way you distract me just by walking into a room and make me look like an idiot. And how you’re always right about the romantic shit, all that stuff that seems boring and dumb like holding hands and shit. You make me do it and then you’re right and I have to look at your smug ass face. And don’t even get me started on how you make me a feel like a fucking hobbit, because you’re way too damn tall.”

  
     At this point, Ian was outright laughing and Mickey was looking at Ian softly, the look he reserved just for Ian, the look that had convince Ian so long ago that Mickey might actually love him. “I guess I’m stuck with you now though,” Mickey shrugged, “At least you’re hot.”

  
     “So that’s why you keep me around, huh?” Ian asked teasingly.

  
     “I guess the secret’s out now,” Mickey said, moving closer to lean his forehead against Ian’s.

  
     “I love you so fucking much Mick,” Ian whispered.

  
     “I love you too Ian.”


End file.
